The Violin: A Ginny and Draco Instrumental
by Ramora
Summary: A violin is the perfect gift for a beginning professional violinist. But not all gifts are given with good intention. Who's behind the suddenly mysterious sickness of Ginny Weasley and what role does the violin play?
1. Sinfonia Concertante

Author's Note: Many people here, including myself, don't particularly enjoy a redeemed Draco. Which is why I come to ask that you not judge Draco's character in this fic based on this one chapter. To get the full extent of how I'm portraying them please read all of them. I'm working on chapter two and should have it up within a week or so so be patient :-) As always, reviews are welcomed and encouraged.

The banner floating cheerily outside The Burrow announced the day of birth for one Miss Ginny Weasley. It sparkled red and gold for her old House at Hogwarts, Gryffindor, and a complimentary green and silver that Ginny had added to accommodate the only Slytherin that would be joining them in this festive occasion. 

Friends of the Weasley family had been stopping by all day to wish Ginny a happy birthday and to admire the pretty little banner while petting the noisily oinking pigs that wandered around it. Mr. O'Hare was the last of the visitors and once he had departed Molly announced the party to officially start.

Ginny sat stubbornly in front of the window for a few moments then joined her already seated family.

She had just settled into the dais set up at the head of the table chiefly for her use to begin unwrapping what was presumed to be trick sweets from Fred and George, who were now the proud owners of a top-selling joke shop in Hogsmeade, when a slender hand began to rap on the door.

Before anyone could even so much as give a questioning look as to who might be waiting outside, Ginny had almost flown out of her seat and wrenched open the door to fling her arms at the neck of the newcomer. She went a lovely shade of pink at the realisation of her sudden actions then dragged him inside to join the family.

At the arrival of the aforementioned Slytherin, with hair tousled from the wind in a way reminiscent of a young Harry Potter's that he fixed immediately after glancing in a mirror, to Ginny's twenty first birthday party, both Ron and Percy made it a point to sit as far away from him as possible. Ron had never warmed up to a so called 'pleasant' Draco while Percy only saw him as another Malfoy to steer clear of with a bit of influence from his father. Bill and Charlie accepted him readily as they had never really known Draco during his years at Hogwarts, and the twins played him off as a little prat prone to harass Ron as they themselves so often did. 

The parents, namely Arthur, however were perhaps the most rigid in satisfying their opinion that he was no longer the boy who looked down upon their family as he'd been taught long ago. They'd only heard of Draco from Ron's complaints of the Slytherins and maybe seen him once or twice during their short stay at Hogwarts in Ginny's second year, but they'd had enough dealings and run-ins with Lucius Malfoy to form a judgmental and erroneous conviction of his son. 

Arthur still fumed at the recollection of an exceptionally sordid day at the Ministry that was only made worse by the semblance of the senior Malfoy. Lucius had proposed a petition, which no doubt involved a lot of blackmailing on his part, against the Muggle Artifacts department to fire Mr. Weasley for what Lucius took as bad judgement when Arthur had allowed several wizards to borrow Muggle cars from the Ministry in order to attend a Muggle football game, that resulted in many Memory Charms being performed. In reality this didn't concern Lucius at all, he stayed as far away from anything Muggle related as possible, but he made it his own personal resolution to find anything and everything Arthur did wrong in order to get him sacked.

Molly was a forgiving woman though and far too motherly to feel that way toward a boy who could have easily been her son (age wise, of course, as they looked nothing alike or behaved the same way for that matter) and tried her best to be nice to him despite his upbringing and advised Arthur to do the same. As long as Draco treated Ginny properly, Molly saw no reason to hold any grudges against him due to his father's actions.

After a minute or two of reorganising the long oddly designed and heavy package and several bottles of pink champagne he'd bought for him and Ginny to enjoy later in his arms, Draco shrugged in resignation and collapsed on a chair nearest him seemingly not noticing the eyebrow raises in his direction from the brothers.

Charlie, with the swift eyes and movements of a true Seeker, made a desperate grab for one of the champagne bottles that was slipping unnoticed from under Draco's right elbow. With only a foot and a half of space between the bottle's rump and the tiled floor, there was only seconds before the pink liquid would be splashed among the shattered shards of glass. It fell another inch before Charlie was able to get a firm grasp, tugging it fully out of Draco's possession and setting it safely on the table.

Draco had hardly even noticed, being too busy answering questions thrown his way by Arthur but muttered a quiet "Thanks." to Charlie before narrowing his eyes at Ron who seemed shocked Draco would show gratitude toward a Weasley.

Of course, Draco didn't seem to think much of Ron and the feeling was more then mutual. Draco was, what he liked to call, 'the pariah' of the group. He certainly hadn't expected a warm welcome to his coming to a family event without technically being a part of the family, but nevertheless their reactions quite surpassed what he was anticipating. He was, after all, a Malfoy dating the only girl in a family of boys so one had to keep on his toes at events like these.

He'd only just settled into the chair again after shifting his weight to place the rest of the bottles on the floor around him, when a loud bang in the house attic made him nearly topple out in instinctive panic. Draco was already antsy at the prospect of having to spend the whole day trying to hold his tongue around Ron and sudden sounds didn't help his frame of mind.

"Don't worry, Malfoy," remarked George pulling Draco by the neck collar back into his seat. "It's only the house ghoul. He likes to make noise when things get quiet, you know."

"Our kind of guy!" added Fred. He smirked knowingly at George who grinned back.  

Draco snorted mentally at the atrocity of a house having a ghoul in this day and age but held any snide comments from passing his lips in an attempt to look as though he accepted that fact in good nature. He smoothed out his hair and fixed his shirt that had got crumpled at the shoulders.

Ginny and the others had hardly seemed to noticed Draco's fall and the daily racket as they were used to the noise by now, even though they'd all been out of the house for years. Ron, however, was sitting, arms crossed over his chest, and scowling at nothing in particular while the non-irritated portion of his attention was set on his younger sister. He would have liked nothing more then to make a crude remark to Malfoy but his mother was quick to give him a meaningful glance that meant not to start anything. Ron slumped even further into his seat and focused his attention on Ginny.

Ginny had started the conventional unwrapping of gifts, every so often issuing thank yous profusely to the giver in question. Draco stared, amused, at the small diamond necklace Bill had given her, who commented how much it accentuated her brown eyes. Ginny had been dazzled by its beauty but Draco only thought of how effortlessly he could produce a whole dress adorned with the same gemstone.

Draco was relieved to see no one had given her what he held in his lap; though such a gift he hardly thought any of them could afford thus settling the fact that his misgiving thoughts were unjustified.

Expectant looks were thrown his way as the scanty pile of unopened boxes dwindled but Draco didn't flinch. He'd decided earlier that day, while pacing about his flat, to give it to her privately. He thought it better to not obviously gloat in front of the clearly less wealthy family. Even if he did.

At last everything had been unwrapped and opened and the Weasley's had retired to sprawling themselves throughout the living room in a manner that would shock any self-respecting wizard. Only the parents had the decency to sit on chairs; the rest had decided to lay down on the repulsively ugly green carpet on their bellies. Ron had brought out his battered Chess set flinching as one of Percy's knights sliced through his pawn.

Ginny had started to help her mum clear away the mess on the table while keeping on eye on the chess game making plenty of noise from the floor. Draco, not wanting to draw attention, silently talked with his eyes looking at her then the empty room as if to say 'come on.' Her mouth shaped into an 'O' when it dawned on her realised what he was trying to hint at.

Ginny had barely seemed to notice that she'd received nothing from Draco, never being one for materialistic things, and followed him into a small space he'd designated earlier as the perfect room to be in private with a look of confusion strewn across her face and her eyes focusing on what he held.

Only then when they were alone did she realise what he was up to, though she couldn't figure out why he had wanted to do give the gift to her apart from her family.

"What is it?" she questioned.

Her hands, waiting anxiously to rip away the golden paper to unveil what was inside, fiddled with the red bow at the top of the package.

"Open it," he replied, a grin playing on his thin pursed lips.

Ginny eagerly but gingerly began to rip at the sello-tape keeping the wrapping together. A hushed gasp escaped her mouth as the paper floated to the floor to lie forgotten by the two adults now standing over it, and a sandal wood violin case sat cradled in her outstretched arms like a young baby.

Ginny's name had been etched into the delicate wood and charmed to give the effect that the letters were sparkling up at her in admiration. The case resembled the colour of the paper that had interred it, with three sterling silver clasps attached at the edge to hold it shut and locked.

"It's beautiful," Ginny whispered in an awed voice.

She had snapped the locks open; the clasps easily obliging to treat their eyes with a wooden instrument like no other. It, too, was made of the same slow growing sandalwood and sported the flamed tiger stripes of an expensive piece of woodwork. The violin itself had a beautiful hourglass shaped figure, the strings sitting flawlessly on the bridge to come together as one at the end of the neck.

"Happy birthday," Draco whispered back.

His slim arms, dressed in a costly dark navy blue silk shirt, draped around her shoulders from behind. His eyes watched as she slowly lifted the instrument out of its wooden womb and began to pluck at the strings rather haphazardly at first. Though she struck at random, the melody was in tune and harmonious to the ear.

The bow was the second object to be grasped by Ginny's soft hands and welcomed into the dimly lit room. It was made of a slightly different wood from the violin and case but was no less beautiful. The only sign of it being handled and made by a wizard was the fact that instead of the horse hair that Muggle versions so often had this bow was attuned with finely plucked snow coloured unicorn hair. 

It glided across the strings gracefully with almost no effort on Ginny's part. Her fingers pressed gently on the neck, blending the different notes together into one of her favourite pieces; _Sinfonia Concertante_. It was an upbeat piece that Harry himself had once said he enjoyed as she played it for the Gryffindor students, which propelled its rank to favourite. Even now when she no longer had romantic, or maybe it was only childhood lust, feelings for Harry the piece always made her think of him and smile.

She'd learned Sinfonia Concertante when she was a little girl desperately wanting to outshine her older brothers who had begun their schooling at Hogwarts or were already attending. It was indifferently hard with much string jumping and double note playing that only proved she was truly talented when she'd sufficiently taught herself. That jealous phase had been just that; a phase. One that had lasted several years but was still only a phase in her mind. 

Even though she no longer had the desire or need to be better then anyone, Ginny had felt something the day she'd picked up the violin and decided to continue her self taught lessons throughout her own years at Hogwarts, finally taking it up as a profession once she left.

Draco was still standing close to Ginny but had stepped back to allow room for her arms to move admiring the set glint in her eye when she was deep in concentration. She'd begun to sway a little to the lyrical beat but almost dropped the violin when an uncomfortable cough came from the doorway shattering her thoughts.

"Ron!" yelled Ginny. "You almost made me drop it!"

Her brother had hardly acknowledged that she said a thing, he was too busy glaring in the general direction of Draco who was far too close to his sister, in his opinion. Nor had he noticed what he'd almost made Ginny drop.

"Mum wants you," muttered Ron angrily.

Ginny sighed quietly, replacing the violin and bow back in its splendid holder. Draco had begun to glare back at the redheaded boy when Ginny elbowed him in the stomach and motioned to follow her. 

The floor of the kitchen and living room had been cleared of wrapping paper (magically, no doubt) and the boys were now sitting on couches in a semi-circle immersed in a heated debate of who was better, Bill or Charlie. Ron's chess set pieces had started their own fight when Ron and Percy abandoned them.

Ron, Fred, and George were siding with Charlie and his excellent Quidditch skills (even if he hadn't decided to go professional - he had been offered several Seeker positions, at that!) and Percy really couldn't have cared less - Head Boys ranked higher in his eyes, anyway. Bill was trying to coax the twins to join his side by way of dazzling them with his dragon fang earring that had lost appeal over the years, but to no avail. 

The six of them hardly noticed Ginny and Draco entering the cramped living room until Ginny let out a squeal of delight at what her mother gave to her. In her trembling hands she held an enveloped letter with a musical note shaped stamp to seal it shut. She knew before looking who it was from, she had been expecting this for some time and recognised the owl that had delivered a letter to her once previously.

The return address in the right corner read "The Madrigal Symphony Orchestra" and had been address to _Miss Virginia Elisabeth Weasley, c/o Mr. and Mrs. Arthur Weasley._

"Who's it from?" asked Charlie, taking a discrete sip of Bill's sparkling apple cider. Bill noticed it out of the corner of his eye and swatted at Charlie's hand, who had been trained with Dragons and was far too quick to receive more then a brush of fingertips, before returning his attention back to his little sister.

Silence. Ginny had literally frozen with fear at the sudden realisation that perhaps this wasn't an acceptance letter. The Madrigal Symphony Orchestra was numerous in size but it was also selective of its members and the selecting community considered it a privilege for a young witch or wizard to get the chance to perform in their presence. Many people her age weren't welcomed aboard easily due to their lack of experience when compared to the more veteran players.

"A l-letter from the Madrigal Orchestra..." stuttered Ginny finally, her hands popping off the seal and pulling out the long note inside. 

Molly and Arthur hovered over her shoulders to read then nodded in relief to their children when they were both sure it was not a rejection letter.

"T-they accepted me!" stuttered Ginny again, overwhelmed with joy.


	2. Champagne, dahling?

The room broke into tumultuous applause. Ron had forgotten that Draco was standing next to Ginny and grasped her in a tight hug. Draco stepped back to allow the rest of her family to congratulate her then slipped into the back room they were previously in to retrieve her new violin. She was surrounded by so many people slapping her back hard enough to send her lurching forward and being embraced she'd hardly noticed Draco return when he shoved the violin gently into her hand.  
  
Molly gasped loudly once she realised what Draco had given Ginny. The total value of the violin was probably more then all of their household objects combined.  
  
Charlie had admonished a low whistle at the site of the glittering letters engraved in the case. "You sure know how to spend your money, kid," he said, his rough hands grazing over the entire length of the object.  
  
Draco smiled proudly taking it as a compliment. The Weasleys gathered around to admire the instrument with Draco standing smugly a foot or two away.  
  
"Play a piece for us, Ginny dear," Molly suggested. She had already taken the violin out and was passing it around albeit very carefully for everyone to get a closer inspection.  
  
"Mum," blushed Ginny profusely at the idea. "I don't want to play with everyone watching."  
  
"Come on, little sis," coaxed George. He'd never admit it but he was rather fond of Ginny's violin playing; she was, after all, the only person in the family to take up any musical ambition.  
  
The boisterous congratulating had subsided and now everyone's eyes were fixed on Ginny, who was staring at the floor in flattered embarrassment from all the attention she was receiving.  
  
"Okay, but only one," she agreed finally.  
  
She took the violin from her mother's firm grip placing it on her hip in order to pull the wand that had been stashed in one of her cloak pockets.  
  
"Accio music notes," Ginny said.  
  
The sheets of music zoomed through the room, dodging people left and right to finally settle themselves neatly and in order on the table behind her.  
  
"What are these?" asked Ron shuffling through the papers.  
  
"Just some pieces I wrote," replied Ginny as she twisted the knobs at the end of the neck to get the strings more attuned to their natural sound.  
  
The piece was almost indistinguishable to anyone but Ginny who had littered the pages with comments to herself and ink smudges from the constant rearranging and switching of bar notes.  
  
After a couple more twists and some light plucking to make sure it sounded all right, the violin was in tune and ready. The bow quivered in Ginny's hand slightly. She had played in front of family before but was somehow more nervous this time owing to the fact that she was now considered good enough to be in a professional orchestra.  
  
The pages of musical bars were now hovering in front of Ginny blocking her view of the small crowd now gathered to hear her play. As if on a silent cue her eyes began to read the notes; her brain translating them into movements for her fingers and arm. The violin rested so easily and lightly in her arms but something felt wrong. It was hard to pinpoint but it started in her fingertips and ended in a compressed shiver of her whole body. A quick glance at the others around her prompted a scared eyebrow raise - their faces looked like they were made of stone and their eyes glazed over in what looks like euphoria.  
  
Ginny tried not to think about it. The instrument was perfect. The best thing she had ever owned. She wouldn't be able to bare telling anyone there was something not right with it. It must have just been her own excitement, she thought. Or her fingers weren't used to this piece as she had thought. It had been a few months since she'd played it last.  
  
The piece, even with numerous additions and changes, was still short in comparison to most and ended more quickly then Ginny had anticipated. She stopped the bow abruptly then carried the tune a little longer to make it sound as if she had meant to do just that.  
  
Her mother's eyes had sprung tears and Molly tried hard not to let them flow. The boys were less emotional but no less impressed at their little sister and Draco was sitting (far away from Ron) with a dazed grin on his face.  
  
Ginny coughed nervously at all the intense stares and said, "Well, birthday cake, anyone?"  
  
She was relieved to see everyone seemingly snap out of their stone-clad daydreams and re-join her in the real world. Had her piece really been that good? Her red hair, now turning a light auburn over the years, shuffled across her shoulders as she shook her head at that silly thought.  
  
Charlie was the first to stand up, followed by Bill and the twins, and then her parents. Percy had excused himself a little bit ago to get started on a report about the use of modern day pens and pencils instead of quills for the Ministry. They stretched a little from sitting in cramped positions then ambled toward the kitchen to partake in Molly's famous birthday cake.  
  
"What kind did you ask for this year, Gin?"  
  
Her mother slapped the hand, George's no doubt, that went to take a small scoop of frosting before the ceremonial cutting.  
  
"She made most of it herself," interjected Molly before Ginny could answer. Ginny shrugged as though making a cake was easy, though the Muggle way was much more difficult then a wave of the wand. Her mother was no help, either. Arthur had charmed the appliances in The Burrow to transfigure themselves once a year for Ginny's birthday so that was the only time Molly had practice with Muggle stoves.  
  
"No wonder it tastes horrible," Fred grinned earning a playful swap on the shoulder from his mother.  
  
"If it was so horrible you wouldn't be eating it," Ginny pointed out then added as an afterthought, "and it's chocolate."  
  
Molly interrupted again, this time to give Ginny the infamous Weasley cake- cutting knife. To the untrained eye it was merely another kitchen knife with no special qualities. It was ordinary looking, being about a foot long total with a one sided smooth blade, except that it had all of the Weasley's names scribbled on it in magical ink so it wouldn't rub off. But to a Weasley it held tradition and a load of family memories. The earliest time in which she'd participated in this event Ginny could recall was cutting of the cake for the twin's birthday; she was four years old, walking around the house chattering merrily about what she couldn't remember, though at the time it seemed important.  
  
Her brothers were huddled around the small table talking amongst themselves. It was relatively quiet except for the sound of her own voice and that was never a good sign in the Weasley house. Even at four she'd realised they were up to something and they were leaving her out. She'd walked tentatively up to their hunched backs holding her breathe not to make a sound, trying vainly to peer over the much taller physiques blocking her view.  
  
Naturally they all knew she was behind them as it was common knowledge that Ginny Weasley could not keep quiet to save her life. Just as she had been about to jump up abandoning all precautions in the midst of the action, they stepped back. She'd let out a scream of fright and fled the room. Of course, Molly and Arthur hadn't got nearly as much pleasure out of their daughter being scared out of her wits by a seemingly decapitated head perched on the cake but that was beside the point at hand. It had been, afterall, just an engorged plastic doll head from one of Ginny's Muggle toys.  
  
Ginny smiled to herself at the fond memory accepting the knife happily.  
  
"Hey Ginny, remember when you were four and we scared you with the doll head on the twin's cake?" Charlie mirrored her smile with his own wolf-ish grin.  
  
"Charlie," warned Molly.  
  
"What?" he said innocently. "It was funny!"  
  
Draco cocked an eyebrow at the mention of the prank. Ginny had almost forgotten he was standing there, lost amidst the sea of family members.  
  
"I'll tell you later," whispered Ginny.  
  
He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly and set his eyes on the decadent mound of swirled frosting and moist chocolate insides not visible under everything else. Ginny sliced the first piece of cake setting it onto a small paper plate decorated with different coloured balloons and confetti (her father boasted later about how easy it had been to buy these from a Muggle grocery store).  
  
Ginny grinned to herself when Draco pushed aside the cake with a fork to analyse the motionless decorations. He personally thought it was rather boring, that was not unexpected though bearing in mind the plates were made by Muggles.  
  
George and Fred had started to bicker loudly at who got the piece with the most edible letter candies, distracting Ginny's attention away from the curious boy still unamused by her father's party favours. Molly settled the matter by informing the twins that Charlie and Bill, being the oldest, would get the two wedges. They grumbled to themselves then slinked off, cake in hand, to begin work on sweet revenge.  
  
"They do this every year," Molly sighed.  
  
"Why don't you just make them their own cake?" blurted Draco in his old Malfoy tone. He instantly bit his tongue with regret. He'd done well so far not saying anything crude to Ron but it seemed a hopeless cause now. Ginny blushed furiously at the scrutinising look Arthur gave her fiancée. She proceeded to blush even further at what she had thought of him as. No one yet knew they were engaged to be married.  
  
The silence was inauspicious and awkward. Molly forced a smile at the young man, trying to take what he'd said in good humour. She had to reason with herself that he was still a Malfoy and had only just been properly introduced to the family.  
  
"Come on, Draco," squeaked Ginny, groping for his hand to pull him toward the door. "Let's watch the sun set."  
  
Draco now had a taste for telling the Weasley's what he really thought of them. A sharp tooth pierced a small hole through his tongue sending spurts of blood through his mouth and stopping him from saying more. Instead he followed Ginny reluctantly, taking two bottles of pink champagne with them.  
  
The last rays of spring sunlight peered at them over small green hills; the sky was already blue black in the East. Ginny could just make out a few gnomes dodging behind trees Molly had planted only two years ago and making their way into the little garden patch of vegetables. She sighed contentedly and plopped down on the grass motioning for Draco to sit next to her.  
  
Draco's words hesitated in his mouth. He wanted to keep his pride and dignity. No Malfoy should ever have to apologise to a Weasley, fiancee or not. It was below him, like mud stuck on the bottom of his shoe.  
  
But Ginny didn't seem to mind. She had willingly forgotten what just happened, either out of ignorance or reluctance in accepting the fact that he would never truly fit in.  
  
"Champagne?" she asked, breaking the hush of cool air passing between them.  
  
Draco nodded curtly, plucking at the grass. Ginny brandished a long cherry oak wand she had got with the money saved up from amateur violin performances, muttering a spell for the champagne bottle's cork to come out and two glasses to appear, before Draco waved his hand.  
  
"Let's just drink straight from the bottle."  
  
"What?" asked Ginny incredulously.  
  
Draco never was one to drink much. He seemed so stressed lately though and he wouldn't tell Ginny why. He frequently woke up screaming with sweat dripping down his face in rivulets. Ginny tried not to notice the glazed look in his eyes when he came home from The Leaky Cauldron or the Dark Mark on his arm that had been glowing too often for comfort lately.  
  
She shrugged and took a swig anyway. The liquid swished over her tongue and teeth before leaving a burning path down a throat not used to the sensation of alcohol. She coughed and spluttered from the scorching pain.  
  
"What did you put in this?" She eyed the bottle accusingly.  
  
"Scotch, it adds flavour," he replied.  
  
Draco uncorked the second bottle with a small 'pop' and drank greedily, grasping onto the neck of it like a young child.  
  
Ginny moved closer to Draco, who had leaned back on one elbow, and laid her head on his chest. The champagne bottle sagged in her loose grasp. Together they watched the sun slowly disappear and the sky plunge into total black dotted with sparkling stars.  
  
"Look." Draco's arm came slowly up to point at a constellation of stars to the South. "That group right there is the constellation of Draco."  
  
"Liar!" giggled Ginny. Her bottle of champagne was almost empty and the effect was magnified in her heavily liquored body.  
  
"I'm serious," said Draco in a completely non-serious manner.  
  
"Why would they name a bunch of stars after you?" she asked, still laughing.  
  
He shrugged thin shoulders in resignation. "Maybe 'cause I'm a Malfoy and I'm so good looking," he slurred.  
  
Ginny snorted then suddenly shivered from a blast of frosty air. "I'm cold, let's go inside."  
  
In the process of standing up, which one should note is difficult when under the influence of alcohol, Ginny managed to get support from Draco then accidentally push him down from the weight. This sent her into another fit of liquor laden giggles quieted by his annoyed glare.  
  
Once upright, they managed to stumbled through the front door. They'd been outside longer then was anticipated and the house was now eerily silent and deserted; the bottom half anyway. Both of Ginny's parents were tucked away in their small room discussing the matter of Ginny and Draco's relationship that Arthur refused to think of as serious.  
  
The drunken pair tried desperately to sneak into Ginny's old room without waking anyone. The plan would have worked had it not been for Ginny stopping suddenly on the stairs to chat with someone in a picture resulting in Draco hitting into her backside, sending her lurching forward. She landed with a thud and a squeal of amused delight.  
  
"Ginny?" called Molly.  
  
"It's just me and Draco," Ginny called back, picking herself up and ascending the stairs again.  
  
The person, Great Aunt Elisabeth, in the photo she'd been talking to chuckled at them softly from her perch on the left wall. Draco glared, puffing his chest and trying to walk without looking like he was so obviously not intoxicated.  
  
He almost hit into Ginny again when she paused in front of her doorway to make sure no one had decided to take her room instead of their own old one.  
  
"Stop doing that!" he hissed at her back.  
  
She turned her head and gave him a wry smile before swinging open the door. The room was much as it had been when she'd moved out three years ago. There were still old childhood dolls laying lifelessly on the floor and even, to Ginny's embarrassment, a few moving pictures Colin had taken of Harry right before he left Hogwarts. She quickly tore them off the wall throwing them in a crumpled heap in a waste bin. Ginny muttered something unintelligible then flopped down rather clumsily on the bare bed.  
  
"Am I supposed to sleep on the floor?" asked Draco, noticing the single bed was only big enough to fit Ginny comfortably.  
  
"No," she answered, "I figured I could sleep on you. You could be my full body pillow."  
  
That vexingly wry smile didn't leave her face once. Well, more of a smug smile if you thought about it. "Ha ha," said Draco dryly. Like hell if she really thought he'd go for that. It was bad enough he had to stay in this god forsaken house under the ever-so-conveniently watchful eye of Ginny's older brothers.  
  
"Come on Drakie," begged Ginny using the despised nickname she'd made up.  
  
Draco cringed. Anything to shut her up.  
  
"Fine," he sat down on the edge of the bed to start untying his shoelace. "but if I wake up tomorrow sore, I'm blaming it on you." His shoes fell with two clunks softened by a discarded blanket spread on the floor.  
  
He climbed on all fours slowly up the mattress then under the sheets to get situated comfortably. His head was already starting to pound with the effort to move any limb at all and he would have liked nothing more then to sleep but Ginny was wide awake.  
  
Draco could smell the champagne on her breathe. Or was that his own harsh breathing making that odor? Her grin was lopsided and her kiss more forceful then anticipated. He met her force with his own dominating power, slamming Ginny gently into the hardened mattress.  
  
"Draco, wait," she breathed. "My parents will hear us."  
  
Draco scoffed at the remark. "With seven children they get a lot of action on their own." It was meant as an insult but Ginny still cackled merrily. Her parents. Having sex. Eurgh. Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco's lips pressing on hers in a fiery befuddled passion.  
  
His mood had changed quickly. If Ginny wanted to fool around he'd give her what she wanted, no less pleasuring himself along the way. It was so simple, almost too much, to overpower her body. In her drunken state she fought back but it was useless - no matter how hard she wished or tried he was stronger then her by a lot. A small pleasured whimper escaped her mouth before being muffled by Draco's lips again.  
  
His hands fumbled blindly with the buttons of her shirt before decidedly ripping them off in annoyance. Stupid Muggle made clothes. In retaliation for ruining her favourite blouse Ginny tore open Draco's own buttoned shirt sending them flying through the room and smacking into walls. She smiled innocently when he growled at her in a menacing tone.  
  
"You're going to have to do better then that, lover boy," she said sweetly. 


	3. Colin Creepy

Author's Notes: In the process of uploading this fic, FF.Net striped all italicised words. I'm not sure why, as it hasn't done that before but I wanted to apologise because I think it really adds to the emotion and feel of a story when words are italicised. This chapter is about double the length of the first two, but I hope anyone reading will enjoy it and feel free to leave a review  
  
1st of June, 2002  
  
"Draco, get off me!"  
  
Throughout the course of the night, Ginny and Draco's positions had changed exorbitantly. Draco was now sprawled across Ginny's lower half and the bottom of the bed. Her torso was curled around his head like a cat and her own head rested on Draco's left shoulder.  
  
"Mmmph," he replied and buried his face into her hip.  
  
With that she pushed him off the bed with all of her muscle, still heavy and uncoordinated from the after effect of alcohol, and he landed with a thud onto the hard wood floor. It creaked and cracked under his weight.  
  
"Fuck!" yelled Draco this time more awake. He rubbed the back of his neck that had landed on and been stabbed by a plastic Muggle doll's outstretched arm.  
  
"It's your own fault, you were supposed to be my pillow," said Ginny grumpily.  
  
"How the hell do you even remember that?" Draco mumbled.  
  
Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "That's about the only thing I remember," she paused. "No, wait. You said something about stars being named after you, I think." She grinned.  
  
Draco cocked on eyebrow up then laughed bizarrely. "The constellation of Draco."  
  
Ginny evidently disregarded his last comment and said, "My head hurts." She sounded awake but her actions said otherwise. She attempted to get up off the bed to grope for her wand but that proved to be too much for her sleep- deprived body and she slumped back down in defeat.  
  
Draco, not one to usually be in a drunken stupor on the ground, dragged himself across the floor to his discarded robe with a wand drooping out of a side pocket. Ginny watched with interest but was too out-of-it to register what was going on or say anything.  
  
Draco's hand wrapped around the wand gratefully and he tugged it out. The tip pointed at his right temple and he muttered, "Salix." His head stopped pounding and feeling like it was going to explode at any second and he sighed with relief. Draco turned the wand on Ginny and did the same. Her brain didn't feel fogged anymore and her limbs moved more accessibly though still a little sluggishly.  
  
"I'm going down for some breakfast," Ginny announced to no one in particular. She would have offered him food but she still wasn't thinking clearly.  
  
She had reached the door before noticing Draco wasn't going anywhere. "Well?" she asked. "Aren't you coming with me?"  
  
He was still laying face down on the floor apparently too tired or lazy to move. He opened his mouth to respond but instead got a mouthful of dust bunnies that caused an uncontrollable coughing fit.  
  
"Don't your parents ever clean this place?" mumbled Draco.  
  
"They don't feel like trying to get past the spells Fred and George put on this room to keep Mum away," smirked Ginny.  
  
She still remembered when she'd finally convinced them to help her. She was attending Hogwarts so she couldn't technically do magic and they had left only a few months before. To this day they used it as an excuse, too, whenever they needed something for not being fully paid back in the agreement.  
  
"Besides," Ginny added, "no one uses the room anyway."  
  
She still stood at the door way staring down at Draco with her hands on her hips. Draco's arms shuddered under the pressure but obliged to lifting him up off the dusty floor anyway.  
  
"I'll meet you down there," mumbled Draco. He picked up a small mirror laying on a dresser and began to fix his hair from the rough night.  
  
Ginny shrugged and started for the stairway. The smell of cooking bacon and eggs wafted up to her nose and she sniffed gratefully. Her mum's cooking was exactly what she needed right now.  
  
The table had already been set to feed eight people; the Weasleys excluding Bill and Charlie who had Apparated back to work late last night and Draco. Molly was hovering above a basket of eggs that cracked themselves into a pan on the stove one at a time and discussing the finer points of the Ministry with Percy.  
  
"Mr. Bartly says my last report was excellent. He's thinking of promoting me, though I could hardly expect such a nice thing from him, even if my work has greatly improved."  
  
"Percy, my boy, it's time you started propelling yourself in the Ministry. You can't work under people all the time, you know," said Arthur.  
  
Percy nodded in agreement. "I quite agree, father, but right now the Ministry needs me where I am."  
  
Molly wiped up a bit of egg goo and said, "Following in his father's footsteps."  
  
Ron covered his mouth in a horrified and awkward manner when he caught site of a dishevelled Ginny trudging down the stairs. Her father had his own face hidden behind a copy of the Daily Prophet and a steaming mug of hot coffee.  
  
"Ginny, dear!" said Molly suddenly, discreetly taking into account her only daughter's appearance. "You got another owl from the Orchestra."  
  
"I did?" asked Ginny stupidly.  
  
The envelope Ginny was handed looked less formal then the one yesterday but still bore the moulded wax symbol of a musical note to hold it shut. Ginny silently tore open the letter - less eager this morning to see what it had to say. Maybe it's a rejection letter, her mind thought tiredly, that wouldn't surprise me. Her shoulders relaxed in relief to see it was only a list of practice dates and -  
  
"International performances?" Ginny choked.  
  
"Well you could hardly expect a well-known orchestra like that to only play in Europe, could you? Honestly, Ginny." Percy glanced over Ginny's shoulder with a bemused look on his face.  
  
"Well I...oh, shut up, Percy!" yelled Ginny, louder then she'd meant to.  
  
Percy raised an eyebrow, not impressed with Ginny's lame comeback. Still glaring at her brother, Ginny slumped into a chair letting her hangover take control.  
  
"Oh Ginny, you look peckish. Have a spot of bacon, will you?" Molly fussed.  
  
Ginny, still half way down the chair, began to rub the temples of her forehead to ease the throbbing pain that had sprang up. What was that spell Draco used? she asked herself. Slacks? Sorix? Salix!  
  
"Mum, where's my wand?" Ginny mumbled, her words blending in with the mouthful of coffee she'd gratefully swished around in her mouth.  
  
"Oh, so it was your wand?" Ron pulled the long wooden object from a trouser pocket.  
  
Well, duh, Captain Obvious.  
  
"I found it stuck between a stair. What were you and Malfoy - er, Draco - doing last night?" he mumbled disapprovingly then turned red for asking.  
  
"Ron!" Molly reprimanded. Ginny flinched from the sudden raise of voices. Ron still hadn't given her wand back and her head was throbbing even worse. He breathed hard through his nose and threw the wand across the table. It landed in Ginny's lap.  
  
Draco ambled down the stairs, still half asleep, a few minutes later much to Ron's annoyance.  
  
"Ginny," said Molly, placing a plate in front of Draco habitually, "when's your first practice session? We've got a bit of Floo powder if you need to go that way."  
  
Ginny scanned the letter that she still hadn't properly read her way through and sipped her strong black coffee in silence.  
  
"It says," she took a bite of toast before continuing, "I can get there by Floo or Portkey. The closest one is in Surrey."  
  
Molly interrupted, "Well there's no point in going that way, Surrey's much too far away, you can go by Floo. Arthur, have we got enough powder?"  
  
Her father nodded, still reading the Daily Prophet. He looked tired and overworked, the Ministry had been busy all month and they hadn't given him a holiday in Merlin knows how long. Ginny sighed and continued. "The first practice is next week, in London."  
  
"You can stay here for the week, it will only be your Father and I. You can use your old room to sleep in, Draco you're welcome to stay as well." It was more of an order then a suggestion. Even at twenty-one, Molly still fussed over her youngest child and wanted to make sure Ginny got to London safely.  
  
Draco's face had contorted into a look of horror before he objected. "Thank you, Mrs. Weasley," he forced, "but I really should be getting back to the Ministry. There's been an uproar of illegal dragon egg trading -"  
  
Arthur frowned at the mention of the Ministry. The clock in the living room struck nine and he promptly stood up to Disapparate.  
  
"Well, Weasleys," he said. "Really must be getting to work. I'll see what I can do about the Portkey, Ginny, it would be much easier and less messy." He winked at her good naturedly. Ginny hugged him good-bye.  
  
"Try not to be late tonight, Arthur dear, I'm making a special dinner for Ginny and I don't want it cold when you get back," said Molly, hugging him as well.  
  
He nodded and vanished quietly.  
  
"Yes, well," Molly turned to Ginny, "best be off to make sure you've got everything, Ginny. I'll send an Owl home for you if you've forgotten anything."  
  
8th of June, 2002  
  
"Have a good trip, dear." Molly hovered over Ginny, straightening out her robes and hair.  
  
"I will, mum," replied Ginny.  
  
"Have you got everything? Your violin? Don't forget your violin! It's very important, Ginny!"  
  
"Yes, mum, I have it."  
  
"Remember to put the locking charm on the case."  
  
"I know, mum."  
  
"And don't talk to strangers, unless they're in the Orche -"  
  
"Molly!" said Arthur. His hands grasped Molly's shoulders to pull her away, then drew Ginny in for a tight hug. "Be careful," he whispered.  
  
The flames of the Floo powder nipped at her feet and hair. The ash made its way into her mouth when she softly said, "Madrigal Symphony Orchestra!"  
  
Ginny tried to keep her eyes open to see the blurs of families as she passed, but the combination of her hair whipping around and the pure adrenaline rush kept her eyes shut in eager impatience.  
  
The soles of her feet slammed into the floor first, sending her staggering out of the fireplace. A woman with whispy black hair, who looked to be in her mid thirties, quickly stepped forward to wring Ginny's hand excitedly.  
  
"You must be," she paused to look at a long list of names she held, "Ginny Weasley! Yes, I'd recognise the hair any day. Welcome to the Orchestra."  
  
Ginny smiled politely and set her violin down to move the trunk that still sat peacefully amid the embers. It was covered with soot and slightly burnt around the edges from the flames but you could still make out the vivid initials GW on the front.  
  
"Let me take that for you," she said. "I'm Alice, by the way."  
  
Ginny opened her mouth to ask if she was in the orchestra as well when Alice interrupted. "I'm no musician, I just co-ordinate the practices. You'd be amazed how hard it is to find a place, these days. Of course, we had to add on a bit to the building so everyone would have a place to sleep, but that's all hidden from Muggles so they don't know a thing. Bless the Muggles though, there are some nice ones. The mayor happily obliged to telling the public the cathedral was under routine cleaning so they can't visit it. Makes it much easier for us to walk about without people sticking their noses in our business..."  
  
Ginny nodded as if she were listening but she was quietly taking in her surroundings with inaudible gasps. There were windows fashioned in stained glass with elegant female angels, their hands reaching up to the untouchable heavens above. There was a recurring pattern of blondes and brunettes dressed in purples, reds, and greens and tight fitting dresses. Many of them had their hair in crowns of diamonds and pearls, as well.  
  
One window, however, looked oddly out of place. It was normal looking enough but when Ginny passed it and saw Muggle citizens walking in front of it on the other side she couldn't help but notice that they hardly seemed to register she was there.  
  
Alice and Ginny passed several more windows like that one before Ginny got the courage to say anything.  
  
"Why can't they see us?"  
  
Alice, who had been in the middle of a speech about the conductor, stopped abruptly then continued again answering Ginny's question. "The windows are charmed so we can see out but the Muggles can't see in. It stops them from asking questions of why people are inside the building."  
  
"Oh," said Ginny.  
  
Alice immediately began talking again.  
  
"As I was saying, Mr. Chion is a bit hard once and awhile, but he really is good at his job. He's won maestro of the year three times in a row, so that says something. But no one will ever listen to me when I tell them how wonderful he is. Fools, in my opinion..."  
  
Ginny fixed her gaze upon the high vaulted ceilings of the building and the old and ugly gargoyle statues that looked even more old and ugly against the stained glass windows. At one point Ginny knocked right into a statue that threatened to tip over from the blow.  
  
She rubbed her stomach gingerly where the hunched creature's hand had hit the hardest but continued to follow Alice, who continued to chat merrily as if nothing had happened.  
  
They passed a few rooms where groups of women and a sparse count of men huddled together to discuss arrangements of players. Ginny listened eagerly but Alice was walking too fast for her to catch more then drifts of words.  
  
A sign stuck out on a hallway corner reading "Third chair violinists" where, Ginny assumed, her room would be. She noticed, too, that the occupants of the rooms they passed down this corridor were much closer to her age then the others.  
  
The door to the room Ginny would be staying in swung open uneasily on its hinges, making loud creaking noises from the rust.  
  
"Well," announced Alice, flinging Ginny's heavy trunk lightly on an unoccupied bed, "here we are! It's not much but you're welcome to change it to fit your tastes. Mind, there are others sharing the room but they're all older and probably won't care too much."  
  
Ginny thanked Alice before the older woman left, then resolved to practising alone while she still had the chance. She could hear footsteps and Alice's voice echoing in the conjoining halls outside her door but chose to ignore them and drown the sound out with a high pitched E note.  
  
Ginny amused herself for a good portion of an hour or two, after breaking her resolution for more practice, by wandering around the building admiring the medieval architecture. She was stunned when she spotted Colin Creevey speaking in low, excited tones with a flute player but didn't say anything as she walked by. Ginny wasn't sure Colin would even recognise her, the last time they'd talked was the summer after seventh year.  
  
"Miss Weasley!" Alice was advancing at an alarming speed, huffing loudly and going red in the face from lack of oxygen. "The conductor is having me gather up the violinists," she said. Alice stopped in front of Ginny to bend over, with her hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath.  
  
"Are you all right?" asked Ginny nervously.  
  
"Yes, yes, quite all right!" Alice dismissed the girl's outstretched hand.  
  
"You're all scheduled first, in ten minutes. You will find the practice room down the hall and to your right, there's a big sign."  
  
"A big sign" was an understatement. It was more of a huge banner, taking up the width of the door and at least a fourth of the height, with flashing, neon green letters spelling "Practice Area".  
  
In comparison, it was nothing close to the room inside. Hundreds of chairs were facing in Ginny's direction, most of them filled by fellow violinists or blocked by music stands.  
  
Black notes floated and hung in the air as if being pulled by invisible strings then scattered by a blow of wind coming from the dispersed fans in the corners of the room.  
  
Witches and wizards alike tuned their instruments in what could only be described as graceful elegance. Ginny was used to seeing violins tuned with a wand but she welcomed the change as something new and fun to watch.  
  
The strings being played at the moment, though not all the same, melded together under the beige ceiling to produce a tune never heard before. The musicians' souls, sweat, and blood had been poured into this melody unknowingly by the song's victim.  
  
This is what music really is, what it should be, thought Ginny. Pure, raw, and full of emotion.  
  
She stood, motionless, with the handle of her violin case grasped tightly in her palm, to take in the scene creating itself right before her wide eyes like a starved kitten.  
  
"You must be Virginia." It was more of a statement then a question.  
  
The speaker was a man of average proportion with a horrible comb-over of blonde hair slicked down by at least a tub of gel.  
  
"Yes." Ginny stuck her free hand out but he ignored it and continued on in a rude fashion.  
  
"You will be playing third chair, alongside Miss Clearwater and Mr. Lian."  
  
His eyes narrowed at the sight of her expensive violin case and judged every word she didn't speak. Ginny decided she didn't like the man much, and only hoped their interaction would be limited. She wondered, too, if the Miss Clearwater he mentioned was Percy's ex-girlfriend.  
  
"Thank you, Mr.," she paused. "Chen?"  
  
"Chion," he corrected.  
  
She started to apologise when Mr. Chion stalked off to yell at a older man for knocking over the director's podium.  
  
Ginny made a beeline for the chair with the word "Weasley" hovering over it. The name tag looked lonely sitting in the air. It was a dull brownish gold set with black letters and it slowly rotated around in circles.  
  
She was dismayed to see Mr. Lian was much older then she had been hoping, more in the range of late thirties then around her age. He nodded in her direction as a way of greeting then went back to scanning the pages of music he was trying to master.  
  
Miss Clearwater, who would be playing first chair, still wasn't there. Ginny busied herself, something she had been doing a lot of lately, with shuffling through papers absentmindedly while keeping a watchful eye on the people around her.  
  
The man who had directed Ginny to her seat earlier now stood on the podium in front of the sea of musicians and tapped lightly on the wood with a long, thin, flexible rod. The rod instantly muted all sound except for his voice which boomed and echoed throughout the room.  
  
"Welcome stringed instrument players to the first practice session of the season! You will please take notice that many of the first chairs are absent, but they will be with us shortly. For now, the parts originally played by them will be done so with charmed violins. If you will turn to page eleven in The Book of Tvagdi, we will begin."  
  
The sound of papers shuffling reverberated in the huge room, sounding like a huge nest of angry bees. Ginny wasn't even sure what she was supposed to do. No one had given her any direction or instruction and it didn't look as if anyone was about to. Would they play like a round robin? Or do solos? Or as one big group? Ginny tried to casually lean over and ask Lian but the director's pseudo-wand was raised in the air and her violin shuddered with excitement.  
  
Almost without thought, Ginny brought it up to her chin and let the instrument guide her through the music. In the throng of other violins being played, her own seemed to give no ill effect to the others in the room which opened a flood gate of relief on Ginny's part.  
  
The director, who acted more friendly in front of a large audience, led the group in a series of round robins then one by one picked individuals to play a solo piece. Each time it looked as though he would chose her Ginny's hands began to sweat with anticipation and pure nerves and her heart felt like it would burst but every time he would hesitate then choose someone else.  
  
"Miss.." Mr. Chion's eyes would scan the crowd. Thump thump thump. Ginny tried to quiet the pounding by breathing slowly. "Lestar?" Her shoulders would slump and her heart would slow.  
  
An hour into the practice the only door to the auditorium swung widely open and a long line of tired looking witches and wizards filed down the aisles. One by one they took their seats as first chairs. Ginny meant to say a quiet hello to Penelope, if it happened to be her, but when she got a look she wasn't sure who it was.  
  
The woman, Ginny presumed to be in her mid to late twenties, had ear length brown hair. On the woman's nose sat a pair of black rimmed glasses with thick bifocals. She dressed more like an old lady, her shoulders draped with a black shawl and wearing an ankle length brown skirt, then someone would at her age.  
  
Ginny turned away and focused on the music in front of her.  
  
After the second hour, they were dismissed from the room. Ginny again tried to get a better look at Miss Clearwater but she had Apparated in silence. She instead found Colin, who had grown considerably since she last saw him, and accompanied him to dinner being held in a smaller area.  
  
The walls were charmed to shimmer in different colours, set with over zealous striped stars dancing across the tables and onto people's heads.  
  
Another surprise awaited Ginny, and a few other ex-Hogwarts students, when they discovered the food system was much like it had been at their previous school. She wondered if there were house elves, like there had been at Hogwarts, or if it was just a spell.  
  
There was an awkward pause between Ginny and Colin as they hugged. Ginny flushed and took a seat at the end of a table.  
  
"I can't believe how much you've changed, Colin," Ginny confessed. He was so well behaved and calm.  
  
"With age comes wisdom," he replied simply.  
  
Ginny blinked. Did he just say what she thought he said?  
  
"I suppose so," she stammered.  
  
Colin smiled warmly at her, fidgeting when Ginny's hand brushed his reaching for a salad fork. Ginny listened in on a debate between a few celloists, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of lettuce.  
  
"Well, Ginny, it's been lovely talking to you," said Colin in the break of the discussion, "but it looks as though it's time for the flute players to begin. Can we catch up another time?" He cleared away his plate with a wave of the wand.  
  
She took a deep breath; he smelled like clovers and mint, and nodded quietly. She hit herself on the forehead for being so stupid once he left. This was Colin Creevey, the boy who liked to take pictures of Harry Potter and was always so excited to learn new magic. Now he acted as if he'd done it all his life and it were merely just an aid in his everyday living.  
  
It didn't feel right. That interaction. It was almost as if someone was just wearing Colin's skin and doing a very poor job at trying to act like him. She suppressed an eerie shudder. Thinking about it gave her the same feeling that she felt the first time she'd used the new violin. Utterly creepy.  
  
*****  
  
"Kill Harry Potter." The voice was high pitched and made the others around it shudder. "The girl, too." He walked around in silence, leering and jeering at the men and lone woman who gathered in a circle around him. The moon cast a glow on his hairless head and lit up his red-tinged eyes.  
  
"But, my Lord, why the girl? She is of no important to us." That was Draco. Draco was no longer standing with the circle but had broken free, to stand in front of Voldemort as he addressed him. He was talking to Lord Voldemort! Ginny wanted to scream for him to get away, to save himself, but her lungs felt collapsed in on themselves. All she could do was watch helplessly with paralysed limbs.  
  
"I want no witnesses," replied Voldemort. "Bring me their heads when you're done. They will look lovely hanging over a fireplace."  
  
He laughed loudly and, slowly, the others began to laugh too. Uncertain laughs masked with terror and a hunger for power. But how many of those appetites for control would be satiated once Harry Potter was dead? Too many, thought Voldemort.  
  
"My Lord." It was Colin. Colin, get away! Ginny wanted to scream. To run to him and push him aside before Voldemort decided to kill him. She was confused. Why was he here? Why had he address Voldemort as My Lord? Colin was standing in front of the older wizard, Draco taking his place back in among the circle of followers.  
  
Colin's upper body was bare. Scars ran down his chest and back, and a skull tattoo with a snake curling out of its mouth was glowing a bright green on his forearm. He looked beaten and worn, like an old favourite shoe a child refused to get rid of. The curious smile that once plastered itself across his face was long gone.  
  
"What about the Weasley girl?" he asked timidly. He was too frightened to raise his voice much higher then a whisper.  
  
Voldemort smiled. It was a thin lipped cruel smile, but one nonetheless. His arms left his side and curled around Colin's shoulders to bring him into a fatherly embrace.  
  
"Yes, the Weasley girl. Draco is taking care of it, my dear boy. Soon you can have her head as well, I will have no use for it. But you must be patient, it will take years. Draco will have to do it quietly, discretely, he will build trust among the Malfoys and the Weasleys, then you will have her head."  
  
Colin was bowing. He got down on his hands and knees to kiss the shoes of Voldemort. No, Ginny thought. No, this is a dream. It's not real. Draco would never do this. He loves me. And Colin. Colin was good, he would never go over to the Dark Lord. What reason did he have? He had none! she yelled into the emptiness.  
  
"Once Harry is destroyed the world will get better for us, boys. We will have to bide our time still, yes, but we won't worry ourselves with the little prat any longer. I will have his head!  
  
Ginny's screams were muffled by her pillow that had been stuffed into her mouth. A cold sweat broke out over her entire body, sending her muscles into spasms. It was just a dream. Just a dream. 


End file.
